These days, fiction is a mindset. I sit in class daydreaming about the next steps, the next task, the next feat. As a senior, that is what I am supposed to do. On the other hand, Instagram infographics tell me the plan I have generated for my life is unrealistic. In this economy, it appears that nothing is possible. Artificial intelligence wants to see me unemployed or enslaved to its efficiency.

I turn on my television to hear middle-aged men argue about access to education and what it’s like to be marginalized in America. The noise of my everyday routine is the growing ideal of practicality. While this can create fulfillment for some, it’s not the case for everyone.

Today, Black kids do not have the same luxury of dreaming at the same rate as others. In this country, we still have issues with Black people being able to exist, let alone dream. We are taught to choose the most realistic path to avoid
bumps in the road. The problem is that we are more than capable.

Our picture books are filled with occupations and experiences that are within reach, but we are not always encouraged to take them. We slip between the cracks of the media. We get stuck in stereotypes and man-made roles that people dreamt up for us. We should have the right to dream for ourselves.

As diversity, equity and inclusion policies disappear, we are losing access to dreams. DEI ensured that theBlack voice was represented academically and valued. Now, the right to be heard is not guaranteed.

This further pushes Black kids back into the boxes that we fought so hard to get out of. Without the cushion that DEI programs and initiatives provided, Black kids are being forced back into one-dimensional mindsets. They are less willing to take a chance on their dreams. As workplace discrimination tries to keep the Black labor force down, we need students with high aspirations to pursue these high-level positions. I want to see more Black CEOs and more Black billionaires. I want to break the glass ceiling.

The stairway for Black students is never-ending; there’s always a new height to reach, as long as we want it. The harsh
reality is that as Black students, doors don’t magically open for us. This country does not have an obligation to see us succeed. We must work hard for every last opportunity, even when we can’t labor anymore. Tenacity is in our DNA think about all the brilliant figures who came before us.

Fortunately, my parents are both dreamers. My father grew up in rural Missouri and built his career from the ground up. My mother supported herself through college with nothing but determination. They didn’t come from wealth; their dreams were wealth. If my mom had listened to the legends of the West Side, she might’ve never left. It’s the same with my father. He believed his world was made to be much wider than a town of 13,000.

For some individuals, their dreams are their lifeline. The thing that keeps blood running through their veins. There are people who would rather die than settle for anything less than what they’ve imagined. Dreams shouldn’t be a privilege for some. They are a right for everyone.

As Black students, we weren’t put on this earth to choose the most “realistic” life plan. Realism is subjective. As humans, we are born to experience anything and everything that we can. We are made to experience the same joy as ourwhite counterparts. On this earth, our time is limited; you’re doing yourself a disservice by ignoring your ambitions.

In a world where nothing is guaranteed, my goals are cemented on my pillow. I am no longer in sixth grade, but my dreams of being a historian still lie with me. Today, I have a plan. And that plan is to dream. I want my imagination to
sweep me off my feet, and I don’t plan on touching the ground anytime soon.